


Small Victories

by glim



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Sick Bucky Barnes, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: Steve tugs Bucky up from couch, and here, at home, he can slip his arm into Bucky's and pull him into the kitchen, claiming at least one small victory for the day.





	Small Victories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [R00bs_Teacup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R00bs_Teacup/gifts).



> For azile_teacup, who wanted some Bucky hurt/comfort set in the same 'verse as [Victory Garden](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11249313).

Most days, Steve will wait inside the shop for Bucky to come by sometime after five, or even six, depending on how busy work is that day. He'll come in, talk to Steve, talk to Steve's boss or his wife, and maybe walk around the shop, smiling, hands in his pockets, marvelling over whatever's new in the five-and-dime. He's not pretending, either, he's genuinely happy to walk through the store with Mr. or Mrs Loughlin, or even (no, or _especially_ ) the kids and hear about the new penny candy or holiday cards. 

And Steve, well, Steve's genuinely proud to listen or watch him do so as he helps get the store ready for closing. He wishes he could show everyone just how proud he is of Bucky. 

_Right, yeah, that's my guy_ , he wants to say, and put his hand right on Bucky's arm. 

_His best guy._

Steve smiles at the thought and shoves his hands deep into his pockets as he heads for the tailor shop. He's off work about fifteen minutes early today, which means he can go get his best guy and walk him home instead of the other way around. 

The wind outside is sharp and cold, and Steve is thankful for the sweater he has on over his shirt and tie today, and he's more than thankful for being pesky and making Bucky wear a scarf with his coat this morning. 

"Hey," Steve says as he lets himself into the still open tailor shop. "You here alone? They let you run this place?" 

Bucky rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Steve. "Nah. Nowicki's in the back, putting some orders together. I'm almost done," he says, then nods towards the chair by the desk for Steve to sit. 

So Steve does, and lets his foot press against Bucky's for about half a second. Bucky has his shirtsleeves rolled up, top button undone and tie loose, a tape measure around his neck. He's doing paperwork, though, and he frowns a little as he rifles through a series of customers' measurements and preferences. His tongue edges from between his lips a little, in that really cute way he has that Steve's too embarrassed to point out to him, but has drawn at least a dozen times over already. 

He also looks ridiculously tired, with shadows under his eyes and that slight tension in his jaw that he always gets when he doesn't sleep enough. Doesn't really help he's still getting over that cold and even if he's dismissive about it, Steve can _tell._

Well, right, _anyone_ could probably tell at this point, his voice is hoarse and congested sounding, and he's been coughing and sneezing intermittently all day, probably. He needs hot tea and some time to rest and Steve to make a general fuss over him. 

"Aren't you almost done? Buck, they look perfect already. You can't alphbetize something more than it already is." 

That makes Bucky laugh, and he turns aside to cough into his sleeve directly after. "Sorry, okay, yeah, I just don't want to have to come in tomorrow morning and have my paperwork be a mess." 

"Yeah, like it ever is." Steve shifts in his seat so he can brush his foot against Bucky's again. 

Bucky glances up with a quick, pleased smile, and even with that overall worn out look on his face, and the way his eyes look watery and tired, that smile still gets Steve. 

He waits quietly for a few more minutes, though, at least until Bucky starts coughing in earnest and has to rest a hand on his chest to catch his breath. That's when Steve shows Bucky his own watch and reminds him that unless he's getting overtime, he needs to go home. 

That gets Steve another eyeroll, but Bucky organizes the desk and stacks order specifications for his boss, then goes to talk to Nowicki for a couple minutes, coughing again, and then letting out a couple rough sounding sneezes. 

"You're starting to sound about as bad as I do by the middle of winter," Steve remarks. 

Bucky huffs at him and pulls his coat closed over his chest as they walk out into the late fall evening. "Yeah, thanks, that's charming, Stevie." 

"Just for you, Buck." Steve rests a hand on Bucky's arm, though, and then pulls him into a quick one-armed hug as they walk home. 

 

By the time they get home, Bucky looks and sounds like the cold's messing him up more than he wants to say, so Steve pushes him onto the sofa after pulling off his coat, and then just sits himself down in Bucky's lap. 

"Steve...c'mon," Bucky mutters, but he's coughing a little again and doesn't protest when Steve starts tugging off his necktie and undoing the top buttons on his shirt. 

"You sound sick," Steve says, then frowns. "You really do, though. Does your throat hurt? Your throat really sounds like it hurts," he says when Bucky kind of shrugs. "And you keep coughing, so you can't tell me that doesn't hurt your throat. I'm the damn expert on coughing around here..." 

"Stevie," Bucky says again, but softer this time, and rests his head against Steve's shoulder. He doesn't say anything else, though, and just stays close to Steve, pressing his face into Steve's shoulder and then letting his eyes droop shut when Steve starts stroking his hair. 

"Yeah, it's okay, baby... you don't have to say you're feelin' bad," Steve murmurs. He strokes his fingers through Bucky's hair and then rubs the back of his neck, petting the really soft hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm going to make you something hot for dinner, then make some tea... we can get in bed and drink tea, I can read to you, maybe?" 

Bucky makes a quiet sound that Steve assumes is one of assent, though it's really just this muffled, hoarse, congested sort of noise. He kisses Bucky's hair, then his forehead, and kisses him _again_ on the forehead to reassure himself that Bucky's not running a fever. 

"We got potatoes and stuff. You want that?" Steve nuzzles into Bucky's hair a little when Bucky shrugs. 

"... can't cook, sweetheart," he murmurs into Steve's shoulder. 

"I can boil potatoes, come on, my Ma taught me that at least." Steve feels a surge of complete and utter fondness for Bucky, for the way he cuddles himself in closer to Steve when he's not feeling good, for the way he wraps his arms around Steve to hold him close, always, _always_... "You can come supervise. Take some aspirin or something for you cold, too." 

Bucky rubs his face in against Steve again, then pulls away with a nod. "Yeah, okay. Warmer in the kitchen once you start cooking, anyway." 

Steve tugs Bucky up from couch, and here, at home, he can slip his arm into Bucky's and pull him into the kitchen, claiming at least one small victory for the day.


End file.
